


Sea World

by fawatson



Category: Prehistoric Park
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nigel leads an expedition to acquire new specimens while Bob and Suzanne take care of some of the park's existing inhabitants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Greer Watson (greerwatson)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/gifts).



> **Prompt:** A story with Nigel Marven, Bob, and Suzanne - Dinosaurs! Or mammoths, trilobites, or what have you. (Your choice of time period, but I'd prefer something as-yet-unvisited.) Ideally, something along the lines of a new episode—well, a single time trip plus a bit back at the park. I'd prefer it written as real prose, rather than an attempt at a screenplay or transcription.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters nor do I profit by them. 
> 
> **Author’s Notes:**  
>  (a) Another inspiration for this story was a National Geographic article I read (while waiting to see my dentist) from the April 2013 issue, entitled “The revival of an extinct species is no longer a fantasy. But is it a good idea?” Alberto Fernández-Arias (Wildlife Veterinarian) and José Folch (Reproductive Physiologist) are mentioned in that article.  
> (b) David Attenborough has presented successive series of wildlife programmes on the BBC.  
> (c) Farley Mowat is a famous Canadian naturalist (probably best known for his children’s books, _A Dog Who Wouldn’t Be, Owls in the Family_ , and _Lost in the Barrens_ ; but also famous for the more serious work _Never Cry Wolf_ ; Borophaginae are ancestors of modern wolves.  
> (d) John Harvey-Jones starred in _Troubleshooter, _a TV series examining business management in the early 1990s. In one series he actually said the sentence: “The situation is barmy and intolerable.”__  
>  (e) Belated Happy Birthday Greer; sorry to miss the day itself but this took me a little longer to write than originally anticipated!

There was a buzz of excitement in the air at the park that day – a buzz that had not been present for the last few years. Nigel was going on another expedition today, a trip through time and space to collect specimens. It had been several years since his last foray to a new era; but the intervening years had seen many changes to Prehistoric Park. Nigel’s enthusiasm to tackle new challenges was legendary; but even he admitted that despite no new explorations, the park had certainly not stood still for the last seven years. The complex, which had seemed so vast when they started, a big empty area between high steep mountains and ocean, had filled up. And who would have thought that the troubles which put a stop to the expeditions years ago – the problems that had almost led to the park’s closure – had, in the end, paved the way for an even bigger and better park than had been originally envisaged. 

The main administration building had been transformed over the years; but the veranda overlooking the central green remained. Years past it had just been Bob, Suzanne and Nigel sitting there, finishing their morning coffee before each would set off on his respective duties. Now, the veranda was full of people, each an expert in his own way, all talking nineteen to a dozen. Once Prehistoric Park had been a quiet place, the silence normally broken only by the roars of dinosaurs (or Bob’s inevitable exclamation at Nigel’s latest find). Now there were times when it felt as though the hubbub of people almost drowned out the calls of dinosaurs. 

The changes had started with Nigel’s trip to the Carboniferous Era. Ben’s grumbling had formed a backdrop to every expedition since the _Mei Long_ had attacked him for the meat in his backpack; but he had been largely disregarded by the rest until Jim had woken up to a _Pulmonoscorpius_. Who’d have thought he had a phobia about getting stung? Certainly not Nigel! But after that expedition he’d been conscious of certain rumblings.... 

Matilda the _Tyrannosaur_ breaking free and rampaging after the elephants a week later had brought it all to a head. The union had stepped in, expressing ‘grave concerns’ about the safety of its members, citing formal complaints against Nigel’s leadership brought by Ben and Jim. The next expedition had been ‘temporarily’ postponed pending enquiries, including one into the various bits of equipment Nigel had left behind during his explorations. It seemed they were over-budget. Just when it had all seemed to quiet down, Matilda had got loose again, attacking poor Terence once more, this time fatally, before heading for the main road out of the park. She’d almost made it to freedom before she’d been subdued. Somehow though, even though the Park was not then open to the public (and the film crew had been the opposite side of the site), the newspapers had got wind of her near escape. Reluctantly, the Park’s new Governing Board that had been put in place whilst investigations progressed had bowed to protests. Matilda had been put down. 

That had been when the Animal Rights Activists had got involved. Not about Matilda, though; _that_ Nigel could have understood. No, they appeared to have taken her demise in their stride, but had expressed deep concern about Martha’s situation. Cruel and unusual punishment, they’d described it. He’d rescued her from certain death from Cro-Magnon hunters; and they decided it just wasn’t good enough that she’d been accepted by the elephant herd. She needed her own kind; and to deprive her of mammoth companionship was not humane treatment of an endangered species. One good thing to come out of that, however, had been the recruitment of José Folch to the team here at the park. The Russians had donated a few frozen mammoth carcases as sources of DNA and two years later, Martin, the first baby mammoth had been born. 

The ensuing media frenzy over the cute and cuddly baby had caught public sympathy at just the right time. Budget cutbacks caused by the global recession had threatened the park with closure. Donations came pouring in worldwide; and, with the development of carefully guided tours, Prehistoric Park’s future had been secured. Only last week Bob had told the Board of Governors they were now number two on the English Tourist Board’s list of most popular destinations outside London. (Only Stonehenge had more visitors.) It was time to put up the price of admission; it was past time to seek new exhibits. 

Even though clearly a period of consolidation had been in order, no one had really expected it to take so long before a new venture to a place not visited before would receive approval. Seven years had been a very long time before consensus could be reached. That was the besetting problem with committees, especially when they included figures of international renown (and egos). Attenborough had been determined that before they expanded the number of eras represented, they must first place the Park on a more sound ecological footing. Expeditions were planned back to previously visited locales to retrieve representatives of less spectacular species than _Triceratops_ and _Titanosaurs_ ; it had taken several trips before David was satisfied. His guidance had been endorsed by John Harvey-Jones, the Park’s new efficiency expert, who had pointed out the waste involved with successive trips to capture the target species Nigel most wanted, while he blithely ignored other animals far easier to capture. 

“The situation is barmy and intolerable,” he’d said, “and has simply got to change if you are to survive in the real world of today’s economics. “

But this trip was to somewhere new. It had taken a year before the destination was agreed. (Farley Mowat had proven surprisingly obdurate in his determination to rescue the Pliocene _Borophaginae_ from extinction, single-handedly delaying agreement about the next expedition, until in the end he’d resigned his position on the Board in a bit of a huff). Once the target species was agreed, the trip had then been another two years in the planning, learning about the period and possible species to gather, whilst building holding facilities for the new animals, and awaiting delivery of specialist equipment to help in their capture. 

The wait was now over; today was the day! Nigel checked his supplies one last time before setting the time-space portal and driving through. He skidded abruptly to a stop, narrowly avoiding hitting the small herd of _Lexovisaurus_ ambling in front of his vehicle. 

“Phew!” he exclaimed. “Even in a lorry this massive I wouldn’t want to tangle with them!” 

Within a short time, the crew had set up camp; and cameras were rolling as Nigel began to explore the landscape, talking all the while. 

“We’re here in the mid-Jurassic period, about 165 million years ago, in what will be, in time, Lyme Regis in southern England. Not that there is anything recognisably ‘England’ now. We’re on the continent of Laurasia, one of only two big land masses in the world, much of which is covered by a shallow sea (though not all, as you could see from the beasts we encountered as we arrived). But we’re not here for land animals this expedition. Much of the world of this period is covered in water and it’s the creatures that inhabit the oceans that we want this time. It’s that sea which will leave England with those famous limestone cliffs Vera Lynn sang about. But that’s a few million years in the future. Right now...follow me!”

Nigel began to run toward the flat rock beach. Ben, video camera on right shoulder, jogged slightly to the rear, doggedly trying his best, but failing to match his leader’s enthusiasm. 

* * * * *

“It does seem a great pity to have to cull them, when we went to such great efforts to incubate them,” Bob said plaintively. 

“I do appreciate that,” said David Attenborough patiently, “but it is that very fact which means they have been rejected by the rest of the flock, and are being pecked – have been bullied for years now. See how unhappy they are?” 

He pointed to two rather bedraggled looking adult _Ornithomimus_ , clearly isolated from the rest of the group and looking – if it could be said about a dinosaur – disconsolate. 

“It really will be kinder to them in the long run. And it is nature’s way. Years ago the mother _Ornithomimus_ rejected those eggs for a reason. Man interfered to rescue them, interrupting the natural course of events. Nature may appear cruel to the casual eye; but it is the right course, as you can see from what is happening now.” 

About eight adolescent Ornithomimus had approached the isolated pair, surrounding them, and, effectively ganging up on them. Dust flew and loud squawks filled the air. 

“Besides which,” Attenborough continued, “ it’s not as if we exactly lack this species.”

There was considerable truth to this observation. The paddock that had originally housed the _Ornithomimus_ had long since been outgrown, as, with good food and a distinct lack of natural predators, the dinosaurs had laid several clutches of eggs each year. Of recent date, the Park keepers had taken to carefully removing eggs as soon as they had been laid, sterilising them, and selling them in the gift shop as souvenirs. They were proving very popular. 

* * * * *

“Closer, closer....” Nigel waved as the huge lorry backed down to the water’s edge and beyond, until the majority of its metal container was submerged in the sea, and the water was lapping at the wheels supporting the engine. “Stop! That’s far enough!”

Jim emerged from the cab. “Are you sure quite about this, Nigel?”

“Definitely,” beamed Nigel. “ _Cryptoclidus_ is the killer whale of the Jurassic period – one of the great dinosaurs belonging to the plesiosaur family, that are apex predators of the sea, and a beautiful graceful creature that swam at great speed and ate fish and other creatures smaller than itself. Large though it appears to us, it is actually only mid-size. Further out, in deep ocean, its cousin, _Liopleurodon Ferox_ roams, the largest swimming dinosaur of all, one that would eat _Cryptoclidus_ , if it could come far enough inshore to get at him. But these shores are too shallow for _Liopleurodon Ferox_ , so _Cryptoclidus_ is safe from him, if not from us.”

In his enthusiasm Nigel didn’t notice the rest of the crew rolling their eyes as he waxed on. 

“Scientists used to think _Cryptoclidus_ crawled up on the shoreline to lay eggs, until they found a female skeleton with a baby inside her. Now we know they gave birth to live young in the ocean, and nurtured them, rather the way whales nurture their young in modern times. A most unusual dinosaur, and perfect for the Park’s new sea exhibit.” 

Nigel paused for a minute to redirect the cameramen to focus out toward the beautiful glimmering blue sea, before speaking into a mike from behind one man’s shoulder. 

“Look - look! There!” Nigel exclaimed as two heads bobbed out of the sea about 50 yards out, clearly curious about the strange contraption that had invaded their bit of the shore. “Now, we just need to add that something to lure them in.” 

“You mean to say you didn’t put the bait into the back of the container before we lowered it into the water?” Bill sounded aghast. 

Nigel had the grace to look a little sheepish. “Sorry lads; I forgot. Not to worry,” he added, “I brought my snorkel.” 

“You just got finished telling us, these monsters –”

“ _Cryptoclidus_ ”

“Whatever – are like _killer whales_!” Ben knew he should never have let himself be talked into another expedition with this madman – not even as the union watchdog. “You are _not_ going swimming with them – NO ONE is going swimming with them.” 

Ben cast a glance round at the rest of the crew, a little relieved they all looked as appalled as he did. Those first few expeditions most of them had been carried away by Nigel’s unbounded zeal. In the end they’d learned – all of them – the hard way. Titular leader he might still be: Nigel’s gleeful lust for adventure had an infectious quality on camera. In reality, Jim was in charge these days. Trusty, sensible Jim who now, efficiency personified, was driving the lorry back onto dry land, while Bill unpacked the large lump of meat, then hopped into the back to fasten it with a chain to the inner wall of the container. 

“Clear!” called Bill as he jumped back down from the back of the lorry. Jim backed it down into the sea again, and sat down to wait patiently. 

“While we’re waiting,” said Nigel, “I just thought I’d take a quick look-”

“No,” said Jim, “you stay here.”

* * * * * 

“Another clutch of ruined eggs,” Suzanne shook her head in dismay, as she bent over the spoiled nesting site. “We’re never going to increase the Troodon group at this rate.” 

“The problem is we have too many females and only one male,” Fernández-Arias commented. “It’s the males who incubate the eggs.” 

“Nigel kept going back trying to catch more, Alberto,” Suzanne explained. “He said the males just seemed to slip through any trap he set for them.” 

“Then we shall have to contrive to incubate them ourselves,” replied Fernández-Arias, “and to be cleverer than Bob was when they start to hatch, so they do not see us first!”

“The females have become pretty smart at hiding their eggs,” remarked Suzanne, “and, since this species is more active at night, that’s when they make their nests, which makes it even harder to know where the eggs have been laid.” 

“Harder, perhaps,” Alberto’s tone was determined, “but Einsteins of the Cretaceous though they may have been, they are no match for us.” 

* * * * * 

Ben, Bill and the others had been busy gathering specimens. Bill’s shovel had dug up an assortment of ferns, cycads and _bennettitales_ ; the pots were now packed neatly in jeep. Ben had found a shallow pool which flooded at high tide, and with his bucket and spade had collected _rudists_ and _belemnites_. These too found their way into sealed containers in the jeep. 

Finally they were ready. Jim ordered the inflatable rafts out, ensuring the outboard motors were fixed securely. A camera set on its tripod recorded Nigel, binoculars in hand, standing on a large boulder gazing out to sea. He pointed westward, then ran down and climbed into the first boat, which set out at a sharpish clip. The second boat was not far behind, but stayed carefully south of Nigel’s raft lest the seine net tangle. One swoop round and the rafts headed back in, net now ‘pursed’, containing one large and two small _Leedsichthys_. 

“I’m not sure it’s exactly a sporting way of catching them,” Nigel said to the camera as he climbed out of the raft as it beached, “though I suppose with fish this size a mere human needs all the advantage he can get! The largest fossilized remains of _Leedsichthys_ found in our era measured almost 30 metres long: far too big for us to have any hope of taking back with us in the lorry. These 4 metre fish are just babies. To put that in perspective,” Nigel explained, “the modern Atlantic Bluefin Tuna fish grows to a maximum of about 5 metres.”

The camera panned to where Bill and Jim were skillfully maneuvering the two baby fish into a container they had wheeled down to the water, leaving the larger fish behind, still tangled in the net floating in the water. It took the strength of all four men to push the container back to the second lorry. There was a moment of anxiety when the vehicle’s hydraulics seemed a little...reluctant...to lift the container from the ground; but it had been specially designed for heavy objects, and slowly the container was loaded. 

Dusk had begun to descend as the men worked. To the camera, Nigel expressed his disappointment that, no matter how successful their endeavours had been so far today, they still had not captured the _Cryptoclidus_ , which seemed disinterested in the bait set for it. Still, when all was considered they had made good progress, and would try again tomorrow. Tungsten lights were posted round the camp’s perimeter for safety. Two men were sent back to the Park with the _Leedsichthys_. It wouldn’t do to delay them settling into their new home. The core group of time travellers would remain on site to tomorrow. Bill and Ben gathered wood for a fire and cooked a simple meal, before the crew turned in for the night. 

* * * * *

Back at the park, Bob and Suzanne walked down to inspect the new inhabitants that had been sent back. Like Nigel, they were a little disappointed he had not been successful in catching _Cryptoclidus_ today. 

“I mean,” proffered Bob as he stood in front of the glass fronted aquarium, “I know they’re huge. But, well...we’ve got used to that around here. At the end of the day, they’re just _fish_. And we’ve got lots of those in modern times.” 

“David will be pleased, though,” answered Suzanne. “And who knows? Maybe with the decline in fish stocks in the modern world, we’ve found a new source of food? A commercial application would please John Harvey-Jones.”

“I suppose,” said Bob, “if you like tuna. I’ve always been more of a red meat man myself.”

* * * * *

Loud banging woke the entire camp in the middle of the night. Nigel leapt from his sleeping bag fearing the worst; but the camp had not been overrun by _Megalosaurus_. Instead the crashing and knocking was emanating from the lorry. Nigel signalled to Ben who followed him into the cab with portable light and videocam. But the sight through the reinforced plexiglass panel between cab and container was not what he expected. A large round eye stared balefully back at him, causing him to rear back sharply. 

“Well that’s not quite what I expected,” said Nigel to the camera, having recovered his equilibrium in record time, “but very welcome just the same. It looks as if our trap caught the interest of a _Ophthalmosaurus_ . These creatures are night feeders, hence the huge eyes – easily 4 inches across. They were expert deep sea divers, which is why I wasn’t expecting to catch one today, given the shallower waters hereabouts. My guess is it was being chased out at sea and had to surface quickly, giving it the bends. So when it couldn’t dive again quickly, it came in shore, hoping for easy prey in the dark.” 

* * * * * 

Warning sirens blared in the stockade entrance to the compound alerting the incumbents to an unscheduled arrival; they had been set up during Nigel’s first forays to the past, when his somewhat haphazard collecting techniques had led to some unexpected visitors, and the need for urgent assistance. No one had heard the sirens for years; no one had really expected to hear them now – except Bob, that is. 

He hadn’t fully undressed for the night. It was, after all, Nigel’s first expedition to new territory. If the past had taught him nothing else, it had taught him the need to be ever vigilant and prepared, when dealing with that explosive mix of Nigel and dinosaurs. Bob was first on the scene as the lorry drove through the portal. 

“Nigel called it an _Ophthalmosaurus_ ,” briefed the driver, “but whatever it is, it seems pretty distressed.” 

“Best get it down to the aquarium straight away,” said Bob, “but put it into the small examination area. Don’t release it into the large pool until after Suzanne has had a chance to check it over.” 

Bob ran back to the staff living quarters to rouse the chief veterinarian, before hurrying to find out what was happening. The _Ophthalmosaurus_ looked in distress all right, twisting and turning in the small pool, the water around it was thrashed almost to foam. Suzanne arrived a few minutes later, just in time to see the baby emerge from beneath the mother’s tail. 

“Nothing wrong with that beauty,” she remarked, as they watched the mother help her offspring to the surface to breathe. “I guess you’d look distressed too if you were in the middle of birth contractions.” 

“It looks a lot like a dolphin,” commented Bob. 

“They’re a textbook example of convergent evolution,” explained David, who had joined them to watch. “Millions of years ago dolphins’ ancestors crawled on land, but at some point they returned to the water and evolved that sleek beautiful shape we know so well today. So too did the ancestors of Ichthyosaurs walk on land, only to move back to the sea and become those lovely creatures.” He waved an arm at the _Ophthalmosaurus_. “Best leave them to it.” He turned to go. 

“They definitely don’t need my help,” added Suzanne, before she too went back to bed. 

Bob stood a few minutes longer, marvelling at the creatures’ grace. Before he went, he opened the way from the holding pen to the large pool and tipped in a bucket of sardines. He remembered, years ago, his wife had felt famished after she gave birth; perhaps this mother would value a bite to eat too. 

* * * * *

Their second day on site dawned bright and clear; with it dawned the realisation all their careful planning was for naught. Quick reconnaissance with the inflatable rafts confirmed that, even had one taken the bait, _Cryptoclidus_ was simply too large to fit into the giant lorry that had been specially designed for it. They had underestimated its length. Some hasty discussions led to Plan B. Ben was sent back to warn Bob what they were planning to try, and get two more time portal devices, three long pieces of clothes line and some weights. Fortunately, Bill turned out to be very handy with sailor’s knots (courtesy, he said, of a youth spent in the Scouts). The campsite was dismantled and all the equipment carefully packed into the jeep. Ben was deputed to drive the vehicle (plus its precious containers of Jurassic invertebrates and flora) back through the land-based portal, while Nigel, Jim, and Bill (with camera) set off in the rafts. 

As they headed off, Nigel positively bounced with excitement. The net, still with the large _Leedsichthys_ within, trailed in the water as bait, hung from washing line strung between the two boats. The boats circled close to the heads of two _Cryptoclidus_ which had been seen bobbing in the waters of the bay for the last day, clearly curious about the antics of the strangers on shore. Attention attracted, the boats sped off; _Cryptoclidus_ pursued. 

“It’s going to be a close run thing,” Nigel had to yell into the mike to have any hope it would pick up his voice over the noise of the outboard motor. “Will they catch up before we’ve set the time portal for them? We are lowering the devices on weighted lines under the water. At just the right moment, I’ll flip the remote switch...and....” 

There was an eerie glow to the water as the portal activated. The camera caught the merest glimpse of elegant bodies sliding under the boat before they were gone – ahead in time, Nigel fervently hoped. It was the first time he had sent an animal to the future unaccompanied, as it were. Now for their own trip. 

* * * * *

For the second time in less than 12 hours the sirens screamed warning as the time-portal at the stockade entrance to the Park activated. Ben drove the jeep frantically fast, yelling at the top of his lungs. Bob’s eyes grew round as saucers at the sight of five _Lexovisaurus_ stampeding through the portal. 

“I don’t believe it!” 

In quick time he dropped the portcullis behind the jeep. Ben managed to brake just before he hit the end of the stockade. As he climbed out of the vehicle his legs shook. Slowly, trembling in reaction to his close escape, Ben climbed the ladder from the enclosure ; his skin looked grey with fear. 

“Of all people to bring back extra dinosaurs.” Bob chided, “you are the one I never would have expected.” 

“Sorry,” said Ben, “we were being chased by a _Megalosaurus_.” 

* * * * * 

In the past the two rafts circled for a good hour, giving plenty of time for Bob to relocate the receiving portal device in the modern age. Nigel thought 20 minutes should do it; but Jim vetoed him, insisting a greater safety margin was in order. It wouldn’t do to materialise in the same enclosure as the predators they had just sent ahead. Finally, they set off, this time throwing the lines with the portal devices into the air in front of the boat as they activated them, and speeding through. Nigel punched the air in triumph, shouting his joy as he recognised the distinctive shoreline of Prehistoric Park, new Aquarium on their left as they headed for the jetty. Suzanne and Bob were waiting on the dock. 

“Where is everyone?” asked Nigel. 

“Admiring our new acquisitions,” said Bob. “Best come see.”

They made their way into the aquarium and through the press of people to the glass viewing area. The _Cryptoclidus_ almost seemed to fly through the water in wave-like undulating movements, using their flippers to steer as they chased the fish some bright spark had thought to throw into their enclosure. 

“Amazing!” pronounced Nigel. 

Bob patted him on the back. “I think you can rest well after this one, Nigel. We’ve covered the earth; now we’ve filled the sea.” 

Nigel grinned. “Just the air to go!”


End file.
